The Doctor's Mayflower
by AyyyoMayyyo
Summary: The Doctor continues his adventures in the TARDIS and soon stumbles upon a new friend, a troubled girl. Can he save her from her fate? More importantly, can she save him?
1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful evening, the stars shone clear against the velvety night sky, the soft summer wind grazed warmly through the fields, and the sound of crickets rang softly across the countryside. It truly was the perfect evening. Bibury was peaceful. A welcomed change, given the end of a horrible war and the dwindling of the time of distress that had followed. Peace was good. Peace was welcome.  
But, all too suddenly, the peace was disrupted. The Eight O'Clock train was coming around the bend, but tonight it's usual bellows of the horn were more frequent and much more frantic. As the train approached it's fateful resting point, an obstacle appeared in its path. An obstacle that seemed impossible. An obstacle that didn't make sense.  
An obstacle in the shape of a rickety blue police box.  
The conductor could not stop the train, nor did he have time to blast out a final warning. The train plowed straight into the police box, ripping the boards from their seams. But something seemed even more remarkable about this little blue police box, with its light flashing to an unknown rhythm.  
Just before the collision, the conductor could have sworn he saw a man leap out of the box. That man, broken and battered, was lying by the train tracks, with nothing but a tiny sonic screwdriver clutched in his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor tiptoed across the hallway, hoping to remain unheard. There were people downstairs, many of them. They were extremely rambunctious, a quality the Doctor was extremely grateful for at this point in time. They would not hear the sound of his uneven footsteps. He winced. The pain in his legs was becoming close to unbearable, but he had no choice but to keep moving forward, despite the pain. There was so much pain. He had never felt true, physical pain before. As long as the TARDIS was around he was able to heal himself in seconds with regeneration energy. However, the TARDIS was not here at the moment. He had no way of healing, no unearthly way of fixing his fractured body. He wondered, faintly, if there was some type of human method that could relieve his symptoms. It was possible. Humans, beautiful, complicatedly simple humans. So unadvanced, and yet they had the cure for anything.  
He had reached the end of the hallway and was uncertain which direction to turn. To the left stood a door. To the right, a window identical to the one he had climbed through to enter the house. Outside the window was a telephone wire. He thought briefly that he could use the telephone wire to climb onto the roof of the neighboring house, but quickly dismissed the notion, recognizing that his arm was far too weak for that. He opened the door quietly and entered the room, closing the door behind him.  
It was a bedroom, that was for sure. He stepped softly into the center if the room, gazing at his surroundings. This was the room of a dreamer, he gathered, judging by the decorations and the color of the walls. Dark purple. The ceiling was purple too, but with small, shining dots placed randomly, like fireflies. The carpeting was thick and the color of clouds. The exterior wall was made entirely up of glass. It offered a perfect view of the stars. The Doctor took a step closer, intending to go out onto the balcony.  
"Excuse me, sir?" A soft voice called to him. He whipped around. In the corner of the room, she stood in the bathroom door, looking at him with confused eyes. The Doctor took a second to gaze at her. This was definitely her room, he could tell that she was also a dreamer. She was the kind of girl you read about in fairytales. He saw it all in her face, the face of a dreamer, the face of a hopeful, blissful dreamer. But there was more than just dreams hidden behind her bright green eyes, he could tell. He could read sadness, heartbreak. She did have dreams, but for every dream there was a nightmare that matched it. He chastised himself mentally; how is it fair for him to know so much about her and she did not even know his name?  
"Sir? What are you doing here?" She did not move from the bathroom doorway.  
"If I told you, you would never believe me." He ran his fingers through his hair as he said this, knowing how true it was. "What's going on downstairs?"  
"We're having a party tonight."  
"Oh really? What's the celebration?"  
"Today is my 19th birthday." She gazed at him questioningly.  
"Oh good for you! Happy birthday! Why aren't you downstairs celebrating?"  
"They've forgotten. It's also my parents anniversary today."  
"You're trying to tell me that your own parents forgot your birthday?"  
"Who are you?" She watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.  
"I'm the Doctor."  
"Just the Doctor?"  
He smiled. "Yes, just the Doctor." His body ached, and for a minute he wondered if his knees would give out from underneath him. And then they did, and he found himself face to face with the girl's bright white carpeting.  
"Are you alright?" She was at his side, kneeling beside him. He struggled to sit up, and eventually succeeded with difficultly. His forehead burned. "Have you been injured, Mr. Doctor?" She said with concern.  
"Please, just call me Doctor." he gasped, trying in vain to ignore the searing pain coursing throughout his body. "I'm not sure if I am injured, maybe you could help me with that?" He knew it was desperate, but any help was welcome. She glanced over his body once, then pressed firmly on his left leg. Pain burned through him and he cried out, his vision blurring.  
"Your leg is definitely fractured, and I can tell from here that your shoulder isn't completely in its socket either. The damage to your face doesn't seem too extreme, but the leg will mess with you." She walked over to her closet and opened the door, reaching into several bins before finally pulling out a roll of medical wrap. He stared in wonder.  
"Do you have medical training?"  
"No, but my father does. I've learned a lot from him." She brought the wrap to him and paused for a minute, then gingerly began to roll up the leg of his trousers. He blushed, looking away. Her touch was delicate; it was obvious that she had done this before. His fractured leg was wrapped in no time. She lookeed back at him. "Your shoulder will heal itself, but I can snap it back into socket if you're looking for quick relief." He nodded, amazed once again at the simplistic yet effective human treatments. She moved to his shoulder, pressing the area gently. Then she sharply snapped the joint. Pain tore through his veins, but it was quickly gone. He was mostly fixed. Human technology, and the kindness of a stranger.  
"Thank you, so so much." He said as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. Though his leg was wrapped, it still was painful to put weight on. "I think I'll be going then."  
"You're not healed; a simple piece of fabric isn't going to make a severe fracture disappear!" She called as he headed for the door. "Won't you stay the night?"  
He paused, considering this.  
"I promise you'll feel better if you just get some rest."  
The prospect of rest seemed almost too good to be true. And the prospect of having a friend seemed even better.  
"I don't want to intrude." He glanced at her bed, the only one in the room.  
"You can sleep on the balcony if you'd like. I saw you looking at the stars earlier." She stepped toward him, then headed for the balcony and motioned for him to follow her. He limped slowly after her as she led him to a purple couch outside. She motioned for him to sit, and he did, relishing the feeling of sitting after a long few days. She handed him blanket and a cup of tea, smiled, and then turned to leave.  
"Wait!" He called, and she turned around. "You never told me your name."  
"It's May."  
"Just May?"  
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. He could see pain behind those bright green eyes. "Just May."  
"Goodnight, May." He called as she stepped inside.  
"Goodnight, Doctor." Came her singsong reply.  
"Happy birthday."


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor was very sore when he awoke. He rubbed his temples softly, begging the pain behind his eyes to go away. It did not, so he laid down once again, pulling the plush blanket around himself. He shivered, though it was not cold. It was probably around one in the morning, he guessed, the sky was still dark, and now a soft rain was falling around the house. He liked listening to the tiny sound of the raindrops; it reminded him that he was not alone. And he knew that he wasn't. Just behind the wall slept a 19 year old girl, he knew. He was not alone. She was there. Something about her confused him. She had not asked him where he had come from, a question he was typically asked anywhere that he went. Was it normal for her to have strange men with strange names wandering into her bedroom? The thought troubled him, and he shook it away.  
On the nightstand he noticed a glass of water and a packet of pain relievers. When they had been put there he was not sure of, but he was certain May had left them for him. He reached his arm out gingerly; his shoulder was healed and it felt much better but it still pained him to do simple motions. He grabbed the packet and opened it. There was probably close to 300 pills inside, how many was he supposed to take? He did not understand human treatments. Did they come with directions? He flipped the packet over, and to his amusement there was a small note taped to the back. "Take two" it said in flowing penmanship. She must have known he would wonder. He took two of the tiny pills out of his pocket and held them in his palm, briefly noting that this could be poison, people HAD tried to poison him before. Could he trust her? Did he trust her? He pondered on this for a second, and then decided that yes, he did. He picked up the glass of water and took the pills, praying for quick relief. His prayers were answered, the pain almost instantly retreated from his body. He relaxed, pulling the blanket around him once more, and gazing up to the stars. It was only a few minutes before he had drifted back into a deep sleep.

It was light outside the next time that he awoke. The rain was still falling, heavier now, and he could tell that the temperature had dropped several degrees. He was cold. He stood up, glad that the pain relievers were still in effect, and wandered through the door into May's bedroom. She was not there. But he could tell that she had been. The bathroom was steamy and he could smell some type of floral essence. She must have taken a shower or something of the likes. The steam from the bathroom warmed the room, and the Doctor could tell that the heating in the house had turned on. Humans. Brilliant, beautiful humans.  
He hobbled out of her room and into the hall, but he did not see anyone. The house was completely silent. Could she have left him here alone?  
"May?" He called out tentatively, wandering to the top of the staircase. "May?"  
"I'm down here." Was her reply. His body relaxed.  
"Is it safe for me to come down?"  
"Of course it's safe, why wouldn't it be safe?" She scoffed.  
"Trust me, in my day I've learned that thing that appear safe generally aren't. I didn't know if anyone else was here." He emerged at the bottom of the staircase, walking into the kitchen.  
"No, they've all gone out for the week." She said. She was standing on the kitchen counter, replacing one of the bulbs in the ceiling fixture. Silly, beautiful humans.  
"Out for the week? And left you here?"  
"Yeah? What else were they supposed to do with me?"  
"Oh I dunno, take you with them?"  
"Why would they do that?" She laughed, as if the idea was completely out of the question.  
"Because they're your parents!"  
"They're not my real parents." With this the Doctor realized that he had stepped onto uneven territory. He saw the bright flash of pain behind her eyes as she said this. He doubted that this was a topic she was comfortable telling him about. And yet, he desperately wanted to ask. His naturally curious mind wondered at the possibilities. But he decided to save those questions for later, he had official business to attend to.  
"Where am I right now?" He asked, gazing out the kitchen window.  
"Bibury, England."  
"Ah. Lovely place. Been here before. Can you tell me what year it is?"  
"2367." This shocked him.  
"That's impossible. This looks just like 2010!"  
"Well of course it does, nothing has changed."  
"Why?"  
"Well, they told us in history class that in the 2150s technology got so advanced that people could barely do anything for themselves anymore. So the governments began banning technology and change so that people would have to do things on their own again. We progressed and regressed."  
"Amazing!"  
"You're not from around here, are you?"  
"You could say that." He snickered. She looked at him, full of questions and curiosity. He appeared to be human...and yet, he couldn't possibly be.  
"You came from the police box, didn't you?" He froze. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. Bright green into ever-changing hazel.  
"How did you know about that?"  
"I saw it. The train tracks are right outside my window. You were the man that jumped out of the police box on the train tracks, weren't you?"  
"You saw that happen?"  
"Yes."  
"How could you be so sure that was me?" She moved over towards him, slipping her hand inside her pocket and pulled out his tiny sonic screwdriver. His brow furrowed.  
"You were having a dream last night, and you kept asking for help so I went out to see you. You were asleep, but you handed me this and told me I needed to keep it safe. I can tell that it's not anything normal." She handed the screwdriver back to him, and he closed it in his palm, feeling the cool metal touch his skin.  
"Is that when you brought me the pain medicine?"  
She nodded. "You were running a temperature. It's not uncommon when dealing with fractures. That's why I left the aspirin. I figured you would want it when you woke up."  
"Thank you." He wondered why she was so kind to him. Helpful, wonderful humans.  
"How is it possible that you materialized right on top of the train tracks?"  
"It's not any ordinary police box."  
"I gathered that."  
"It's a time machine." Her eyes searched his face for answers with this. She was not surprised. But she was curious. "I travel through time. In that box. Her name is the TARDIS."  
"The TARDIS?" She rolled the word around in her mouth, adjusting to the feeling.  
"Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It's an acronym."  
"Oh. So are you stuck then?"  
"What?"  
"The TARDIS. Your time machine. It was destroyed. You're stuck here, aren't you?"  
His heart sunk. "Yes, I suppose I am."  
"Can you build another one?"  
"No. The TARDIS rebuilds itself. But usually it's in one piece when that happens. I don't think it can heal itself now." The sadness in his voice was almost tangible.  
"Can you put it back together?"  
"Probably not, but I wouldn't know, I've never tried to rebuild it from scratch before."  
"It could be worth a shot."  
"It could." He knew it was almost impossible. He would be here forever. And yet. His heart leaped at the possibility. Maybe he could reassemble the TARDIS, if there was enough of it left, and then he could heal himself with regeneration energy. He could leave this peaceful countryside and continue his life. There could be galaxies being destroyed right now, and he was powerless to stop it. Yes, he needed to at least try to fix the TARDIS.  
"Do you want me to take you down to the tracks?" May asked, as if she could read his mind. He nodded yes, and she grabbed her car keys. He followed her out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

They arrived at the train tracks just minutes later. May parked her car while the Doctor hobbled down the hill to where the many pieces of the TARDIS lay. He reached the area in no time, and was pleased to see the ship, while in many pieces, was broken into many large pieces, pieces he could probably drill back together fairly easily. The hard part would be fixing the inside. He didn't know if it could fly again, but maybe if he got the box restored enough it would work. He counted at least fourty pieces of broken wood, but they were not terribly broken, and the floor was completely intact. Putting the police box together would be easy; putting the TARDIS back together might be difficult. He began to gather the pieces of wood from the tracks, moving them into a large pile next to the hill. May, whom he had not noticed standing behind him, began to help. She moved much quicker than he did, probably because she had two functional legs. In almost no time they had gathered all the pieces of the TARDIS. The Doctor gazed lovingly at the pile. His TARDIS, broken into many pieces, was still beautiful. It was still his prized possession. Now, he hoped he would be able to restore it to it's former glory. It was not as badly broken as he thought it had been.  
But he couldn't rebuild it here. He needed to find a good place to work on it where he wouldn't be seen. Or hit by a train. He looked over at May, who was watching him curiously.  
"Is there somewhere I could rebuild this where it wouldn't be noticed?"  
"Well you could build it in the barn in my backyard, if you wanted. It hasn't been used in years. I think it's empty."  
"Will it be large enough?"  
"Of course."  
He nodded, considering this option. He supposed that he did not have anywhere better to go. And May was beginning to grow on him, though he wished she would talk more, instead of just staring at him with those piercing green eyes. Yes, he would take this option.  
But how exactly was he going to fix the TARDIS? May probably wouldn't provide much help to him there. He supposed he would have to try to mend the broken wood with his sonic screwdriver, then once the outside police box was restored the interior of the TARDIS would hopefully appear again. He would have to work on the inside for quite a while, unless the TARDIS somehow managed to repair the interior itself. But he doubted that was possible. It was going to be difficult to restore his beautiful machine, but if the control room was not too damaged, he would be able to get it flying at least. As long as the control room was there, he could make it work.  
"Doctor?"  
"Yes, yes. Sorry, I'm thinking. Give me a minute. Shut up. Sorry, I didn't mean that. Give me a minute."  
"Doctor, it's raining."  
He snapped back to attention. The rain was heavy and freezing now. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees in the past hour. How had he not noticed? May stood looking at him, shivering slightly. He felt a pang of guilt. She was standing out in the cold to help him. And he could do nothing for her in return. Silly, selfless humans.  
"Doctor." She said sharply, knocking him out of his thoughts again. "We need to get the TARDIS out of the rain or the wood will take damage."  
"Yes, yes, you're right. The wood will expand if it's wet. It needs to be moved." "Then what are we waiting for?" She motioned to the top of the hill, where her truck was placed with the bed open and waiting. How had he not noticed it before?  
Slowly, they hauled the bits of the TARDIS back to the truck, the Doctor tried to take as much as he could at a time but was still no match for May's pace. This amused him; he was not used to humans being superior to him in agility. This was a humbling experience.  
They finished in about an hour of work, and the rain had morphed into a downpour. The Doctor sat in the passenger seat of May's truck, watching as she closed the bed and pulled a tarp over the broken pieces of the TARDIS. He wondered how her single heart was managing to keep her body temperature up; his dual hearts had no problem, but he imagined that if he felt chilled, she was probably freezing. He was right. As she climbed behind the wheel of her truck, he could see her struggle to control the tremors rocking her body, but she could not stop herself from shivering. She was completely soaked, her golden hair was pressed against her face and dripping, and he suddenly came to the realization that she was not wearing shoes. He smiled. Silly, unpredictable humans.  
The ride home was peaceful, the Doctor quickly found that he was completely at ease with May. Making small talk was not hard, she was very curious about his origins and eagerly listened and asked questions as he told parts of how he came to crash in Bibury, England. He liked that. Curiosity was good. Of course, he was biased.  
When they arrived back at May's house, they wasted no time moving the TARDIS out to the old abandoned barn. The Doctor stared at the pile of wood, his magnificent time machine, and slowly began to work.


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor had been working on the TARDIS for three days straight. He could not bear to sleep or eat, that would mean taking a break from the TARDIS. He wanted to finish as quickly as possible. Something about this place unnerved him. He was not sure why the TARDIS had brought him here, nor why it had accidentally landed in a dangerous area rather than a safe one. Something was not right here. He needed to fix the TARDIS. Without the TARDIS, he would not be able to heal himself. Which means he would not be able to fend off anything remotely dangerous. He hated being so vulnerable. May came out to help often, though she found that she was often more in the way. So she sat and watched, or she went back to her room. This strange man confused her; nothing about him was logical, and yet everything he did made perfect sense. He said he was a time traveler, and this she did not doubt, but a time traveler from WHERE? Was he from this world? He appeared to be. She smiled. She was fond of this "Doctor". He didn't talk to her much, but he did talk to himself quite a bit, often having arguments and debating with his own mind. He was amusing. Also, she was not sure why he was in such a hurry to finish his machine, but she admired his dedication. It was paying off. The exterior of the police box was almost completely restored, with a few screws missing here and there. Soon he would be able to go inside. She brought him tea occasionally and tried to get him to eat, to no avail. All he could focus on was working. Sometimes he would ask her about little things, like what time of year it was or who the current prime minister was, but he never really seemed interested in the answer. He would just mutter a reply and then become absorbed in his work again. So she would just sit and watch. She had been watching for close to four hours, and the exterior of the "TARDIS" was completely finished, just a few scratches. The Doctor had dozed off a few minutes ago, sitting down to have a break. Soon after, in the ray of sunlight streaming through the old barn's windows, nestled in the windowsill, May drifted off to sleep as well.  
When she awoke, the door to the police box was open and she could hear the Doctor rummaging around inside. She unfolded herself, climbing out of the window and stepped cautiously over towards the box.  
"Doctor?" He poked his head out, gazing back at her. He could read the curiosity in her eyes. "The interior is completely intact!" He gushed excitedly. She smiled, but did not move any closer. He rolled his eyes. Fearful, cautious humans. "Well come on then!" He motioned for her to enter and stepped back inside.  
A moment later, she stepped into the TARDIS, her bright green eyes alight with wonder. He grinned, watching as her gaze flitted around the control room, her lips parted with shock.  
"This...this is impossible." She whispered, backing up against the railing. "Completely impossible."  
"No, nothing is impossible! Especially not this."  
"But...how?"  
"How what?"  
"How is it...bigger? On the inside?"  
He grinned again. "That's the line I hear the most."  
She took another cautious step towards the center of the room, running her hand over the center console, trying desperately to understand what this was. She was transfixed, fascinated by this phone box from - well, she didn't know where is was from, she assumed it was from the distant future. "Bigger on the inside" was really an understatement. This center room was bigger than the barn that the police box its self was in, and she could clearly see that there were doorways to other rooms and corridors branching from this center. Completely impossible. But here she was, standing in this wondrous police box, believing. Believing in the impossible.  
"So that's it then?"  
"What?" He asked, his brow furrowing.  
"You fixed it. You can leave."  
"Oh...yes...yes...I suppose I can." The Doctor contemplated. He was both excited and saddened by this. He was glad to get to be free again. Happy to be healed. Ready for adventure. And yet, he was somewhat sad to be leaving this place.  
"Would you like a cup of tea before you leave?" She asked him.  
"Ok, why not?" He smiled. She stepped out of the TARDIS, and he followed her. They crossed her yard, the Doctor skipping happily beside May on his newly healed leg. She laughed for one of the first times since he had come here. He liked the sound. It was good to see someone smile. He liked happiness.  
After sufficient frolicking in the yard, the Doctor and May eventually reached the house. They burst into the kitchen, giggling and bright eyed. The Doctor's mood had greatly improved since the TARDIS was repaired, and he was rubbing off on May. They continued to play around for a minute, basking in the light of the Doctor's success. But suddenly May froze. The smile vanished off her face instantly. Confused, the Doctor followed her gaze into the kitchen.  
There were people there. Seven, he counted quickly, his head no longer clouded. Four adults, three children under the age of 16 he guessed. Five males. Two females. They were all focused on him, their disapproving gazes flitting from him to May and back. May withered, shrinking back into the door frame. The Doctor was confused. Something about these people worried him. He recognized them. He shouldn't recognize them.  
"Hello, Hailey." The oldest man said, his glare boring down at May. Hailey? The Doctor only became more confused.  
"Hello." She almost whispered.  
"Who is this?"  
"This is my friend...the Doctor."  
"Doctor who?" The man was quickly exasperated.  
"Doctor...John. Doctor John Smith." She lied, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He smirked. John Smith is a name he'd gone by many times before.  
The man grunted, looking at the woman next to him, who shook her head. "What is Doctor Smith doing here?"  
"He...his car broke down and he needed a place to stay."  
"He's been staying here?"  
"Yes."  
"You know how we feel about you having friends over...especially the older ones." The woman hissed, switching her glare from May to the Doctor.  
"Show him out."  
She didn't move.  
"NOW, Hailey."  
May snapped back to reality, grabbing the Doctor's wrist and pulling him out of the house. He followed her without question. She drug him out into the backyard, then released his wrist and looked at him apologetically.  
"I'm sorry."  
"Who were those people?"  
"That's my parents."  
"But they're not your real parents."  
"No."  
"Hailey?"  
"It's a long story."  
"Your name is Hailey?"  
"It's a long story."  
"Why did you tell me your name was May?"  
"Please, can we not talk about this?"  
"Tell me!"  
"It's not important."  
"Tell me!"  
"Please, you've got to go." She pleaded. "Go get in your TARDIS and go. Get away from this place."  
Her words troubled him. And his response slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Why?"  
"Because. It's no good for you here. And I'm going to get in trouble." She said, hearing her mother calling her name angrily from inside the house.  
"Alright." He said, not knowing what else to do. She gazed at him. He could read the sadness in her eyes. He did not want to go away.  
"Goodbye, Doctor." She said, her voice almost a whisper.  
"Goodbye...Hailey." The name did not feel right on his tounge. There were too many unanswered questions. But he was out of time. She landed a quick kiss on his cheek, and then ran back toward the house. He walked slowly towards the barn and then into the TARDIS. He closed the door, sadness gripping his heart as he turned on the controls. "Alright, old girl, take me where he need to go." He whispered to the TARDIS, and soon he was in flight.

May watched from her balcony as the Doctor walked into the shed, and then she could hear the noise of gearshifts as he began to disappear away from her forever.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor tried not to feel sad as he changed out of his battered old clothes into fresh ones. He barely even knew her. She was but a mere pawn in the long cycle of his life. But he couldn't completely suppress the lonely ache in his heart. He had been traveling alone for so long. It was such a nice change to find someone friendly. No. He needed to stop thinking about her.  
He cleaned himself up, not knowing where his next destination would be. This prospect of new adventure excited him. He was looking forward to getting back into the swing of his old life. A life full of danger and risk. This was the type of life that suited him.  
He felt the TARDIS land and grabbed his sonic screwdriver, heading for the door. He opened it, and stepped outside. Only to find himself right beside the train tracks in Bibury, England.

The Doctor stood, confused. Why was he here once again? He didn't need to come back here. He needed to go off somewhere to clear his head. Isn't that what he had told the TARDIS? Take me where I need to go? But the Doctor realized, fearfully, that this IS where he needed to go. There was something here that wasn't right. Something here needed to be fixed. He didn't know what, but his thoughts were instantly drawn back to Hailey/May's parents. He had recognized them. He should not recognize anyone from this time period. This was unnerving. Could they be shape shifters of some kind? Maybe he hadn't really recognized them at all. But he knew it was the best place to start.  
He climbed up the hill and headed away from the train tracks, though the TARDIS had not landed on the actual tracks this time so he was not worried. He walked across the road to her house, pondering on this complex string of events. The house was dark. Sensible, he supposed, realizing that it was probably about half past eleven currently. He hadn't taken note of the time of day when he exited the TARDIS. Not knowing what to do, he came up to the front door and knocked.  
Silence was his answer.  
He knocked again.  
Silence was his answer.  
He knocked a third time.  
This time, the force of his knocking caused the door to swing open. He wondered why it hadn't been locked. The lock had been damaged, he noticed almost immediately. This troubled him greatly. Stepping into the kitchen, he began to notice that the house was COMPLETELY empty. There was nothing there at all. The cabinets had all been stripped from the walls. The wood flooring was removed, even the light fixtures had been removed. The house looked like it was ready to be condemned. He wandered towards the staircase, trying to comprehend this mysterious house. But when he got to the staircase case, it looked like he had found the answer.  
The staircase was blackened, covered with char. The Doctor didn't know if it was safe to stand on, it was so badly burnt. One touch on the damaged boards might cause them to crumble. He could see the burn pattern blazed into the wall. He carefully set one of his feet onto the first step, placing his weight on it. It groaned in response, but supported him. He carefully mounted each step, making it to the top of the staircase eventually. The burn marks streaked across the hallway, but interestingly enough, the walls were not burnt at all. Nothing was, just the floorboards. It wasn't right. The Doctor could tell that something was very, very wrong. Fire didn't behave like this normally. The amount of heat that it would have taken to damage the floors this badly should have destroyed the entire structure, but the building was still standing. This was not right. He rushed down the hallway to Hailey/May's room. He opened to door gingerly, preparing for the worst. He found it.  
Her room was the only space of the house that had been completely burnt. The walls were charred, the glass on the back wall covered in soot and partially melted. The floor had been burned to the point of nothingness, leaving only a few stips of stable flooring to walk in. But to his relief, all he could smell was the sent of burnt wood and other minerals. There was no sent of a living creature's death here. Hailey/May had not died, at least not here. This comforted him. But only slightly.  
Why had this happened? How had this happened? How is it possible that Hailey/May's room had been absolutely destroyed but the rest of the house was almost untouched? How is it possible that the fire had burned the floors but not the walls? How is it possible that the fire followed a direct path from the staircase into her room? He knew he was dealing with something unearthly here. Someone must have lit this fire, controlled it. But why? Why would someone want to destroy Hailey/May's room, possibly with her inside of it? Well the Doctor knew that the purpose was probably to destroy Hailey/May herself, rather than just her room. The idea of it made him angry. Furious even. He had to get to the source of this conflict. She had done so much to help him, out of the goodness of her heart. This was the least he could do. Make her world safe for her to live in.  
He jumped across the room, leaping to each section of standable flooring nimbly. He made it out onto the balcony, which was still intact. It looked exactly like he remembered it, though he realized now that he had gone away from Bibury for more than a few minutes. He wasn't sure how long. It could have been decades, though he doubted that. He looked at the night sky. The stars were not as bright as they were the last time. They were merely dull balls of light now. He ran his hand over the balcony railing, lost in thought. He needed a sign. A signal. Anything.  
And then he got one.  
A star blinked, and something about it's reflection on the trellis of roses next to him bothered him. He stepped closer to ther roses. A tiny slip of paper was pinned under one of them. He moved the plant delicately out of the way.  
"Check the storm cellar." It read.  
He recognized that handwriting.  
Spotting the entrance to the cellar near the back patio, he climbed down from the balcony and began sprinting across the yard.


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor stepped cautiously into the cellar, sonic screwdriver at the ready. He did not know what he was going to find, or what he wasn't going to find. He hoped he would find her, preferably alive, but he also hoped he would not. Something terrible had happened in that house. He feared for the worst.  
The cellar was too dark to see anything clearly, and the Doctor couldn't seem to find a light of any kind. This was a modern home, shouldn't there be a light switch or something? He felt the walls, his palms scanning for anything. He found a button, but upon pressing it he found that nothing happened. He turned on his sonic screwdriver, and the tiny light it emitted gave him a good enough view of his surroundings to find the light switch, directly opposite of the wall he had been searching. He flicked it on, and the cellar was immediately lit. He then realized it was much more than a cellar. It was a series of catacombs, woven together intricately.  
The Doctor loved a good mystery, but this made him nervous. This wasn't right. He could feel that something dangerous was here. Lurking. Waiting for him to happen upon it. He grasped his sonic screwdriver tightly, prepared for anything. He proceeded down the corridor, not quite sure where he was going, but following his instinct had worked for him in the past.  
He walked for what felt like hours, going down one staircase, then two, then three. Through one door, then two, then six, then eleven, he was losing count. He wandered along, wondering if maybe the note had been placed there to lead him in the wrong direction. It would be like him to fall for something like that. But just when he had finally lost hope, a door burst open.  
She dashed out, closing the door behind her.  
"Oh, uh, hello." She breathed with a smile. "Long time no see. I'm rather in a hurry right now, and you should probably run, that would be-" her body swayed. The Doctor stepped closer, concerned. "That would be...fantastic..." she whispered and her body crumpled. The Doctor reached out, catching her, saving her from the fall. The door opened.  
Donna Noble stepped out.  
But then she shuddered, and she wasn't Donna Noble anymore.  
Mickey Smith was standing there.  
But then he shuddered, and he wasn't Mickey Smith anymore.  
This happened several times, shifting from Doctor Constantine to Reinette Poisson to a Weeping Angel to Rory Williams and finally settling on Captain Jack Harkness.  
"Sorry." Jack said with a grin. "I had to find the right form."

They sat inside the room. The Doctor sat on the floor, she was laid on the floor next to the Doctor, and Jack sat in the only chair in the room, smoking a cigarette.  
"What are you?" The Doctor asked bluntly. He was very confused.  
"I'm the Grunge."  
"How can you take so many forms without ever having formed a psychic link?"  
"I'm not taking any forms. Everyone sees us differently. What you are seeing is an image created by your own mind."  
"So you're not shape shifters?"  
"No. We are living mind games."  
"Why did you come here?"  
"Our home planet was destroyed many years ago, but they had appropriate resources to sustain our race."  
"So you're not harming anyone. Just looking for a place to live?"  
"Well, we haven't harmed anyone yet."  
"Yet?"  
He motioned to her.  
"Why?" The Doctor asked, feeling protective. "Who is she to you?"  
"Who is she? Well, she's the girl that time forgot."


	8. Chapter 8

" 'The girl that time forgot?' " the Doctor scoffed. "That's impossible. Time never forgets."  
"It doesn't remember either, does it? It simply holds."  
"Exactly. It holds the memories of others. So as long as I remember, she can never be the girl that time forgot."  
"But you don't remember, do you?"  
The Doctor paled. The Grunge grinned wickedly, basking in the horror of the Doctor's realization. "The longer you remain in her presence, the less and less you can remember her. It's what we do. We erase. She is being erased right now. You're watching it happen."  
"No. No. It can't be...it's not possible."  
"You can't even remember her name anymore, can you?"  
The Doctor willed himself to remember. But he couldn't.  
"Time never forgets. She can't be erased as long as someone remembers her."  
"You don't remember her. You were the last to see her. The infamous "Doctor". You can't remember. What makes you think anyone else does?"  
"Someone does."  
"No friends, no family, a captive her entire life, not even a pet around to love her. Nobody is left to remember."  
"Why?" The Doctor asked, distraught. "Why didn't she have anyone?"  
"She was handed to our family through slave trade. We had to keep her isolated; she knew too much."  
"Why did you need to keep her? Why not just trade her to someone else?"  
"We needed her."  
"Why?"  
"We needed her essence to take human form."  
"What?" The Doctor gasped.  
"Her essence."  
"You've been feeding off of her soul?"  
"For years."  
"Why? Why not just kill her?" The Doctor snarled angrily. "It would be more merciful."  
"She can't die."  
The Doctor was speechless, glancing at her motionless body, illuminated by the time energy that was surrounding her.  
"She can't ever die. Believe me, we've tried. She has some strange lock in time; she always comes back, always in the same form, always the was she looked when she turned 19. Any injury she sustained disappears. But she retains her memories."  
"She really can't die?"  
"No. It really worked in our favor, actually."  
The Doctor did not understand.  
"Think of how many ways there are to kill a man. Then combine that with someone who can never die. Then, on top of that, add us, a race designed to inflict pain on those weaker than us."  
The Doctor's stomach twisted into a sharp knot. This wasn't just evil, it was psychopathic. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at the tortured, broken girl fading softly on the ground. If he could just remember, she would stay. He had to remember. But every second he looked at her, he could feel her being pulled away from him. He kneeled next to her, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Humans were so beautiful. He had never met a human that wasn't beautiful. And she was just as beautiful as all the rest, if not more. The Doctor ran his hand across her golden hair, desperately trying to form some kind of a memory. She was too young, too young to have her life extinguished like this. If he could only just remember some part of her, her name, her voice, her eye color. If he could remember anything. He willed himself, one hand one her cheek, the other in his hair. He willed himself to remember. But the golden light continued to close in around her.  
"The process is almost complete. She'll be gone in minutes." The Grunge said with a snicker. The Doctor felt his hearts sink.  
He had no words to say to the Grunge.  
"Why does she matter to you anyways? You're a complicated creature, more complicated than this race anyways. What are you doing running around with a silly little human?"  
The Doctor smiled sadly. "Obviously you haven't met many humans. They are the most fantastic creatures I have ever come across. Always listening to their hearts."  
"We have a rhyme about that in my culture." The Grunge said with a sarcastic grin. "The beat of a heart is a wild tune, from midnight to morning to afternoon. If you follow it's path it will lead you astray, any time, any place, any year, any day. You will follow it to your final hour, you will fade away with the summer mayflower."  
"Beautiful." The Doctor murmured, stroking his thumb across the bridge of her nose.  
"Beautifully tragic." The Grunge growled. "The process is complete. She is gone."  
But she didn't go. The Doctor was thinking.  
You will follow it to your final hour, you will fade away with the summer mayflower.  
You will fade away with the summer mayflower.  
Mayflower.  
May.  
He remembered.


End file.
